Title: Tin Soldier Revisited
By: Jessie Blackwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Characters owned by RTD and the BBC, Tin Soldier and Eyes of Amber owned by Joan Vinge. I don't own any of it, etc. etc. etc., no infringement of copyright intended, no money being made, etc, etc. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Summary: Tin Soldier is a short story by Joan Vinge, the first sci-fi tale I ever read and was from Eyes Of Amber, an anthology of hers. It seemed to fit. Jack runs a bar instead of propping one up, Ianto Jones is the rookie on a ship that comes to call.

The crew of the WGH456, the 'Who Got Him', tumbled through the door of the bar with noisy appreciation. He looked up from where he stood polishing the Xantian marble bar top and smiled his trademark smile at them. If memory served correctly, and he wasn't often wrong, it was twenty two years, three months and four days since they had last been through those doors. There was Tommy and Bernie and Andy and Owen and Captain John, arms draped casually around each other, looking not much older than they had all those years since.

'Hey Soldier, how's it hanging?'

'Still chained to the bar then?'

Their banter was friendly and teasing and familiar. The crew of the Who Got Him was a regular at the bar, plying the eastern trade routes as they had been doing for the best part of the last 150 years.

'Now then Gorgeous, you're a sight for sore eyes, as ever…' Captain John leaned over the bar and leered as he always did. He was the Navigator to the feminine brain behind the ship's core. A human brain drove the Starships, a brain whose neural pathways were fused not to the workings of a flesh and blood body, but to the workings of the ship. A brain salvaged from a ruined body, given a second chance at life, the ship was an immortal lover who chose her mate from the crew and psychically fused to him in order to enable her to pilot her metal body and navigate across the vastness of space, a human contact to keep the human brain sane and focussed.

After the improved FTL drive had been developed nearly six centuries ago, suddenly it had gotten easier to travel the stars, faster and smoother. Ships were sleeker, quicker, more manoeuvrable, but underneath there was a price to pay for being a crewman. Your loved ones were left behind, you stayed young as they grew older and too soon, for you at least, you'd be saying goodbye to their dust and ashes. Faster Than Light drive was like that. Decades would most likely pass before you set foot on your home planet again, where only months or a couple of short years went by for ships' personnel. Yet it was a choice most were ready to make. The training and selection were rigorous and most didn't make it through. Those who did were usually more than a touch arrogant and justifiably proud. They had superior intellectual and physical appearances but they enjoyed a drink and made good on that every time they came into port. The Tin Soldier knew them all. There was a reason for his nickname that most people never knew. He liked it that way.

Only men could be pilots. Female physiology couldn't handle the pressures and atmospheres and forces inherent in space travel, at least not on the permanent basis it required to crew the deep space vessels. Not that they were delicate, far from it. A lot of them worked to make the ships, now the men travelled the stars. They joked that no man could ever make a ship. It took a woman to understand the making of so many 'babies'. A woman's brain to run it, a woman's hands to make it.

Each ship was therefore sentient, seamlessly melded into the metal and insulating plastic shielding of the bodywork. The ship's 'consciousness' linked with one particular crewman, telepathically linked as a symbiotic partnership. It was likened to a lover but would never come up to that analogy. It was far more unique and symbiotic than that. He knew how that felt. Had known... That had been an age ago. Owen shouted for drinks and shook him out of that particular line of thought. He could still feel jealousy, but it was a useless out-dated emotion now.

He brought the drinks over on a tray, weaving his way expertly through the tables, avoiding having his bum pinched by reflex alone. He set the tray down and cast a glance around them all, mentally logging the faces. Almost immediately he saw they had someone new. Blue eyes, clear as a summer sky back home, looked into this. They took his breath away.

'Soldier, meet the rookie. Picked him up from the Academy on the last tour…'

'Still wet behind the ears…'

'Cute arse though…'

Jack smiled and wiped the table down before he served them and caught Ianto's eye. 'Hi. Name's Jack…most people call me Soldier…I run this place.'

'Jones, Ianto Jones.' They shook hands, kept hold a fraction longer than was necessary, neither was sure who was responsible for that.

'Nice to meet you, Jones Ianto Jones. Welcome aboard.' There was much digging of ribs and sniggering. Ianto looked confused but had wit enough to call after him 'Thanks. By the way, Like the apron.' Jack was wearing a short Barrista's apron which revealed his arse in its tight trousers. He grinned but missed the expression on Captain John's face. Once he was back behind the bar, he saw John lean over to whisper in Jones's ear and Jack hid his smile. They were still playing that game, were they?

It wasn't long before Jack saw Ianto making his way over and schooled his features into a mask of bland indifference. 'What can I get ya?' he asked, swiping a cloth across the bar top again. Ianto was nervous. Gods, this one really was wet behind the ears, but he was cute. No doubt of that. Jack smiled his most genial smile and was suddenly presented with a pair of wide blue eyes that bore the look of a deer in a gravcar's headlights. With those eyes he took pity on the kid and grinned.

'Sent you over to chat me up, have they?' Jack came straight to the point.

'Er…well, it's a dare…they…its my first term of service…' the young man sighed, resigned to his fate.

'First everything by the look of you.' He blushed prettily and ducked his head, resting his arms on the bar and leaning forward. A smile flashed and Jack's heart nearly stopped, which was technically impossible but never-the-less felt like it.

'I look that innocent then?' he sounded chagrined.

'Well, not that innocent.' Jack offered, grinning good-naturedly. 'What can I get you?'

'They're drinking Vokda.'

'Yeesh, they'll be incoherent before the night's out. Take my advice, stick to Veresh Ale, its less hard on the head in the morning, can't tell the difference.' And Jack began to pour a delicate-looking pink-tinged liquid into a small glass. 'You trust me?' The young man looked at him quizzically. 'Well, they sent you over for two things. One, to bet you that you couldn't sink a Vokda shot in five seconds flat, straight off without falling over. Two, to proposition me, and to get me to agree. Not hard with your looks…' He left the statement hanging.

'So, why should I trust you?'

'I'm not about to see you suffer for John's warped sense of humour, that's why…'

'No, I meant…what are you going to do? How can you help? Assuming you want to, that is…'

'Oh, I see…' Jack grinned again, seeming to flirt with Ianto, placing the drink in front of him. 'How good an actor are you?'

'Actor?'

'If that was straight Vokda it would hit like a hyperdrive back blast and knock you flat…unless you can really handle your alcohol.'

'So?'

'So, down it in one - trust me, you'll be able to. Its not the real thing, as I said, its Veresh ale - but you'll have to make it look worse than it is or John will smell a rat. I suggest you collapse forward onto the bar? Make it look like you've passed out. Go on, they're all eyes…' and he smiled, knowingly. Ianto surveyed the drink. 'Promise, it won't kill you…'

Ianto took a deep breath, glanced round to catch their eyes, then back, lifted the glass in salute and tipped it to his lips. He tossed it back in one smooth move, paused briefly, then choked…coughing dramatically. Then he sat down, spread his hands on the bar and slowly collapsed forwards until his head was resting on the cool marble. For all the world he looked as if he'd been kicked unconscious. Behind him, his crewmates were raucously clapping, cheering and money was changing hands.

'Brace yourself, lift up a little and shake your head, you know, like a wet dog…that's it.' Jack said encouragingly as Ianto complied. 'Now push yourself up and look at me…good…that's got their attention…' he smiled. 'hang your head a bit…that's right…All bets are off it seems…' He locked eyes with the gorgeous young man and leaned over. 'Sorry.' He said and pressed his lips to Ianto's, hand snaking behind his head to pull him in for a passionate kiss. For a fraction of a second he struggled, then melted. Muted cheering could be heard behind Ianto's back. They broke for air and Jack grinned. 'Icing on the cake.' He said, 'I think John's going to have a fit in a minute. He didn't expect that…'

'But what do I do now…I mean, where do I go tonight? I'll have to get a room somewhere…I can't go back to the ship. If I do, they'll know I didn't get laid…'

'You can come home with me. Don't worry, I sleep alone. Won't lay a finger on you.'

'You sure?'

'Yeah, I'll enjoy the company. And in the morning, you can report you were thoroughly laid by Captain Jack and piss John off some more.'

'Why would it piss him off?'

'Because every time they come here, the self same thing happens. He sends the new guy to me at the bar to order a Vokda, and to chat me up. John usually wins. The Vokda usually does it, the guy passes out, it never gets to the next stage and John wins the bet. Owen was the last one, twenty years since.'

'Why did you do it? Save me, I mean?'

'I like you. And it doesn't do to let John win every time. Now, you can go back to the table and piss him off even further by telling him I'm taking you home tonight...'

Closing time was always delayed while Jack's 'security', a tall heavyset humanoid by the name of Grix, removed the stragglers and then went his way homeward. The last to leave was Captain John. He slapped Ianto on the shoulder and left with a parting shot that he would see him tomorrow, they boarded in the evening and would be off by the following dawn. Anyone not on board by then would be left behind. Then he sauntered away with a lascivious grin, his arm round another young man. Jack recognised him, Allessi, lived a few doors down from the bar, a waiter from the restaurant across the road. By the time these boys returned, he would most probably be married with kids of his own and his wild youth behind him.

Jack switched the lights off in the bar, turned the key in the lock and lead the way up the hill towards his house. It was a stuccoed terracotta affair, two stories, looking out across the valley to the spaceport below, lights winking in the summer dusk. The sun was only just setting on the peculiarly long Xantian day and Jack let them in through the door into a small cosy living room, its big picture window insulated against the cold night winds and chills of winter. It opened wide in summer to admit the warm night breezes and the smell of the delicate red Kahni blossoms under the window. A small kitchen sat to one side of the room and a narrow stair lead to a single bedroom next to a palatial bathroom for such a small place. A huge stone bath sat in the centre of the room, flanked by a more functional sink and a toilet against the far wall.

Jack fixed them what passed for coffee and they sat on the sofa opposite the window watching the sunset.

'I appreciate this…' Ianto paused. 'What do they call you? Soldier? Why, were you one?'

'A long time ago.'

'How long?'

'A long time ago…'

'And you refered to yourself as Captain? You were one of those too?'

'What do you think?' Jack grinned.

'From what they say, they've known you a long time.'

'Yes, they have, some of them.'

'How is that possible? I mean, the FTL, you should be ancient by now if half the stories are true, which I doubt, but even so…'

'I'm not human…'

'John said you were.'

'He said wrong…' Jack couldn't help the bitterness creeping into his voice. Abruptly, he stood up, all the old resentments flooding back. They had abandoned him here, damaged, wrong…unable to get off planet because he was not classed as Human any more… No ship would carry him. He felt wrong to them, unnatural. 'You can have the sofa…' he headed for the stairs intent on getting away from this bright child with the blue eyes, a man with a child in his eyes and a sharp mind that reminded him so readily of…

'Jack…I'm sorry.' The words were very quiet, spoken gently. 'I can shut up…just… don't go, please.' Jack eyed the man warily. 'I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to pry.'

He took a deep breath. 'You weren't. Its just…an old injury…' He chuckled. 'I get cranky sometimes.'

'Jack, there's no need to pretend…'

'I can't do anything else.'

'You can, with me you can. I trusted you back there, you can trust me too…' their eyes met and they locked gazes for a long time, each assessing, judging. Eventually, they broke the contact and simply stared out the window, watching the sun disappear.

'Jack? Can I ask you something? I promise, I don't need an answer. Only give me one if you want to, I won't push…but…' Here it comes, Jack thought, the crunch question, the one that meant he would be alone again in ten minutes, maybe less. 'You're immortal.' That wasn't a question. Jack waited. 'Are you a cyborg?'

Jack sighed and closed his eyes. 'Do I have to answer?' Cyborgs were not classed as human, despite it being the foremost way of returning a badly damaged body to life and health again after severe trauma. Such people were misfits, outcasts for no other reason than they had been subjected to an invasive procedure to save their lives.

'Nope, not unless you want to.'

'Then I won't.'

'Because its true…what was it, an accident?'

'Why do you want to know? Why is it so important to you?'

'Because, back home, they made my fiancée Lisa into one, after she had an accident at work. Instead of leaving her to die, they changed her…her mother said she wasn't human any more…her parents disowned her.'

'Ianto…'

'No Jack, I want to know how you continue living, if you are one. How do you cope? Just so I can tell her, there's somebody out there who is like her, just like her, for whom life isn't shit. That's why I left, signed on with John. I figured she'd need me…every once in a while, to come back and remind her who she still is. Last time I saw her…she was happy. She was living in a small community in the Welsh hills on Earth, working together, a group of misfits but people she could rely on. I wanted to live long enough to give her a chance…'

'That's noble of you…'

Ianto made a self deprecating noise and stuck his tongue out. 'I'm not judging Jack, I wouldn't leave you, if that's what you're afraid of. That's why they know you, isn't it? That's why you've been around for so long, you're well-nigh immortal. Is it…well, is it partial?'

'78%, roughly, more of me than not. Musculature is enhanced, bone structure is reinforced, eyes are cybernetic, so are all the other sensory receptors. Memory is hard-wired, eidetic…I can't forget anything if I tried. Most people think its wrong, they think I'm wrong. Something that wasn't my fault brought me to this. John knows, he was hoping you'd not realise, then he could taunt you with the fact that you fucked a cyborg, or were fucked by one, when you get back to ship. It's a particularly cruel joke…'

'Thanks Jack, for saving me. You just proved something to me. You're more human than most of the people I know…' Ianto smiled. 'Come to bed?'

'What? Why?'

'Because…if he's going to taunt me anyway, I may as well earn it.' Ianto fixed him with a look. 'Jack, you're you, no matter how much metal is supporting your body, your mind is your own.' They locked gazes again and Ianto smiled. That smile held so many promises.

Next part of story - Tin Soldier Too